The American President has deplored the, ah, deplorable habit Washington, D.C., has of getting all wee-weed up in August, that abominable time of year. This choice of words has excited something of a contretemps, if you know what I mean by that expression. I’m at a lost why. Like Baudelaire, I’m a literary chap myself, and if that’s not the mot juste, its as close to being j. as the m. ever gets.